


one moment (then two)

by potstickermaster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, because i'm trash like that, gay sg pairs, rare pairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickermaster/pseuds/potstickermaster
Summary: There are moments that two (or more) people share that leave lasting marks.Or an archive of random ships and drabbles from mytumblr trashbin





	1. reigncorp - tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reigncorp. prompt: lena has the "purity" tattoo just like katie does and when she and sam have sex for the first time she finds it and it's shook and when she realises alongside with that lena is also a kinky bottom she makes fun of her forever (but she secretly loves the tattoo and thinks it makes slapping her ass even hotter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/168785797220/prompt-lena-has-the-purity-tattoo-just-like)

Sam promised herself that the first time she and Lena make love, she’ll take her time praising and worshiping her body in the way a masterpiece like Lena Luthor deserves.

So, when it happens, after some wait and a lot of teasing kisses and almost painful sexual tension, she does - takes her time pulling away every inch of fabric that shielded all of her from Sam’s eyes, kissing every inch of exposed skin, hands exploring, mapping every curve, memorizing Lena and the majestic way the gods have created her.

Sam has had Lena panting under her, has had her whimpering her name as her fingers worked and pulled a climax then another from the raven-haired woman. Lena’s features are full of bliss, a smile on her face, and Sam holds her with tenderness, like she can’t quite believe she’s real. She coaxes Lena to lay on her stomach, because she’s yet to worship every inch of her, she tells Lena so, and the raven-haired woman hesitates and blushes before she’s rolling to lay as asked of her.

Sam stills and blinks slowly when she sees it - dark ink and looping letters on alabaster skin. Hands remain where they were, mid-air, aching to touch just few seconds ago but now quite… Lost.

“You…Have a tattoo,” Sam says. Lena looks up at her from her pillow, almost shyly, and bats her lashes.

“You’re not one of those people who think one shouldn’t - ”

Sam cuts her off with a shake of her head and a soft touch to the small of Lena’s back. Her fingers trace the curve of the letters that read  _Purity_ , feels the way Lena stills, hears her intake of breath, sees her arch her back. Sam praises whatever higher being there is, then continues with her journey of committing every inch of Lena to memory, all touch and lips and tongue and teeth and Lena comes, again and again and  _again,_ before Sam is satisfied.

//

Sam has begun to know every inch of Lena’s skin by heart. There are echoes of stars on her back, constellations that Sam loves to kiss, and there are galaxies in her eyes and certain spots that make her whimper, moan, scream. Sam has learned these, by heart, through nights and nights of exploring and mapping with hands and lips and tongue and teeth, and she’s learned many a things.

Like how Lena quivers when Sam leaves lovely marks on her inner thighs. Or how she moans Sam’s name in an almost fragile way, when she whispers  _come for me, darling_ in her ear, and how she clutches Sam’s frame as she shakes through her climax.

Like how wet it makes Lena when Sam tells her to get on her knees, under the CFO’s desk, and lick her while she’s finishing her reports. Or how Lena loves it when Sam pulls her hair, or how she’d buck her hips against nothing when Sam calls her _a pathetic slut_  when she teases her with fingers not quite inside her yet.

Like how Lena absolutely loses it when she’s made to get on all fours, and when Sam would move behind her, all gentle touches and comforting hands until she pulls Lena’s dark hair. Lena would scream for her, beg for her to  _please, fuck me,_ and Sam would give in and push the shaft she wears, fuck her until she’s screaming for  _more, Sam, yes, please._

She learns how beautifully Lena’s skin turns pink when she spanks her ass, learns how her voice would crack with a plea for another, commits to memory how her back arches, always towards Sam as if offering this majestic creation that is her body to her.

Sam thinks it’s ironic, when she has Lena like this, that her tattoo screams _purity_ when there is no trace of it in what they do - not in the rough movements or the rake of nails that leave angry red lines on pale skin, not in the screams of delirious pleasure Lena cries, not in the greedy way Sam held and groped and grabbed like she’s  _hers_ to claim.

She thinks it’s beautiful, however, that she does easily find purity in Lena, like when she’s asleep, dreams flitting away behind her eyelids, or when she laughs so lightly that Sam’s heart soars, or when she reaches out to help anyone and everyone she can, or when she holds Sam so dearly like she has never loved like this before.

Sam thinks that it’s fitting, perhaps, this word on ink on her lover’s perfect skin, and she spends nights upon nights worshiping Lena, tracing the loops of the letters with fingers and tongue, and the curves of her lover’s body with prayers and praise.

//

Sam learns, one day, that Lena means _light._  It’s fitting, she thinks, because Lena is light and happiness and sunny days, and it’s this that her mind returns to on the moments between Lena and, well, no Lena.

//

The next time they make love - or after, rather, while they bask in the warmth of each other - Lena notices the dark letters over Sam’s chest, where her heartbeat hums, that haven’t been there before.

“You got a tattoo?” Lena murmurs, soft fingers tracing the ink with almost reverence. “ _Lux in tenebris_ ,” she reads, smiles fondly. “Fancy. What does it mean?”

Sam takes her hand, kisses her knuckles, and smiles, too. “Light in darkness.”


	2. imra/psi - post 3x11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imra/Psi. Random moments post 03x11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/170036548200/soooo-you-gonna-have-a-imrapsi-drabble-for-us) and [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/170038363550/what-about-imra-gg-to-psis-cell-and-talking-to)

Imra makes her way back to the DEO main room but stops as she catches sight of the prisoner being led to the holding cells. She hesitates but makes her way to them. “Wait,” she calls out. 

The guards halt. The blonde in cuffs pauses, too, and turns to her. “Matilda.” 

Imra purses her lips and meets her gaze. Despite the psionic blocker that the woman is wearing, she is a little wary. Understandably so. Psi just tilts her head and smiles. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.” 

Imra squares her shoulders. “I just wanted to thank you,” she says. “For coming through and saving us.” 

Psi didn’t seem to expect that. Her nonchalant expression falters and for a moment, Imra sees a chink in her armor - a softness that disappears as soon as she takes notice. 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Psi says then turns back around. Imra’s lips quirk into a small smile.

“You didn’t look, did you?” She whispers. “My greatest fear? Supergirl told me what you could do. Yet despite losing control, you didn’t look at it.”

The blonde chuckles listlessly. “Small mercies, Matilda,” she drawls as she walks off. The guards follow her. Imra watches her walk away.

“It means a lot to me,” she calls out. 

Psi spares her a glance, and Imra sees it again: softness, before it disappears.

//

She says hi to the guard-on-duty, who only nods at her politely before letting her in once she shows him her credentials and her permission badge. Psi looks up as soon as she gets in. 

“Hi,” Imra breathes out as greeting. She takes a hesitant step, glancing back to the doors once they close, then turning her full attention to the glass cell that holds the blonde psychic.

“Matilda,” she greets with a tilt of her head. She leans back against the white wall of her cell and stretches her legs. The psionic blocker is a bright blue and gray metal around her blonde head. Imra frowns at it, but it isn’t like she can do anything. 

“I thought you could use some company,” the raven-haired woman says as she settles on the floor in front of the cell. Psi just laughs lightly.

“Me? What makes you say that?” She asks with smirk. 

Imra just shrugs. "I just don’t think the silence is…cozy.” She picks at her boot but keeps her gaze at the blonde. She is just looking at her, as if studying her, still with that mask of neutrality that she always seems to wear. “You think I’m here for something else,” she says, a statement more than a question.

Psi laughs again. “I thought I was the mind reader.” She sighs and lies down on her back. “Why are you really here?” 

Imra just hums. “Like I said. Company.” 

The blonde just stares at her for several moments, before looking at the ceiling. Imra just watches her. They stay in the quietness of the room. Everything is white and transparent glass. Boring. Still. Imra is only able to count until ninety-two before she is sighing again. “Don’t you get bored?” She asks. 

Psi just glances at her again before returning her gaze to the ceiling. “There are worlds in one’s mind that can occupy them for hours upon hours.” 

Imra finds herself smiling at those words. “I didn’t know you wax poetic.” 

The blonde glares at her. “I don’t.” 

Imra chuckles anyway. She wonders how she could bring about that softness in this woman again - somehow, the small glimpses she had so far had her looking for them in an almost yearning way, and the novelty of it makes her curious. Thirsty, almost. “What’s your name?” She asks. “Your actual name. Not the one they gave you.” 

She isn’t given an answer. Psi just stares at the ceiling again. Imra doesn’t mind; she just stays seated, picking on her boot, the hem of her pants, and when the alarm blares outside as warning, she stands with a soft sigh. “Sorry for bothering you,” Imra says, making her to the door. She is already on her way out when she hears Psi respond.

“Gayle,” she whispers, softly as if she doesn’t want Imra to hear but she does. “My name is Gayle. Once upon a time.” 

Imra looks back at her. “Gayle,” she echoes, as if tasting the name on her tongue. “Lovely name. You wouldn’t mind me visiting again, would you?” 

Gayle just looks at her. She answers with a shrug, but Imra accepts it with a smile. “I’ll be back then,” she says, and leaves with the promise.


	3. lena/imra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Lena/Imra ficlet inspired by this [post](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/173439797165/every1hasmyname)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/173440312550/can-your-imralena-ficlet-end-in-a-jealous-kara) I'm not even sorry

“You’re Lena Luthor.”

Lena tenses, pausing in front of the diagrams she had been studying so she could look up at the unfamiliar voice. Great, she thinks, another Luthor-hater ready to give her their piece of mind. Lena clenches her jaw and stands straight, meeting the stranger’s gaze. 

“I am,” she says simply, voice stilted. She crosses her arms defensively. “How can I help you?” 

Instead of going off in a tirade of how she doesn’t deserve to be here, how she’s evil like her brother and her mother, the woman smiles, almost excitedly, and if that doesn’t jar Lena, it’s how the woman practically  _ skips  _ towards her and shoves her hand to Lena.

“Hi,” the woman says,  _ breathes out  _ like she’s in awe, her eyes wide and unblinking. “I’m- I’m Imra.”

Lena blinks a couple of times in disbelief, and it takes all of three seconds for her to take the woman’s—Imra’s—hand in hers to shake it. The other woman’s hand feels cold and clammy, like she is actually nervous, and Lena is just  _ confused.  _

“I’m Lena,” she says dumbly. 

“I know that,” Imra replies quickly, just as Lena mumbles  _ but you know that. _

They both chuckle. Lena looks down at their joined hands before Imra pulls away, like she was burnt or something, and the CEO isn’t quite sure but she thinks she’s... _ blushing. _

“Sorry, it’s just, I didn’t realize I’d get to meet you,” Imra explains. She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and licks her lips, and Lena can’t help but follow the movement with her gaze. Imra sighs and waves her hands. “You’re a legend. Where I’m—well,  _ when  _ I’m from. Lena Luthor of L-Corp.” 

It dawns on Lena, then, that this woman is one of the time-travelling bunch Supergirl had talked about. 

“Oh,” is all Lena’s able to say, still stuck in disbelief. Imra has her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, biting back a smile, and Lena chuckles. “Thank you. That’s…” She sighs heavily. “That’s actually very refreshing to hear.” 

“I’m a big fan of your work,” Imra says, excitement never leaving her voice. “I mean, Saturn is pretty advanced, but your work here on Earth, your legacy—” 

“I’ll stop you there, Imra,” Lena says with a small laugh, and Imra actually pauses and flushes a bright pink again. Lena gives her an assuring smile. “I think the lesser I know about the future, the better. Timelines and all.” 

Imra beams, a twinkle in her eye that Lena only ever saw in Kara’s, and nods. “Of course,” she says, before waving her hand to the diagrams Lena is studying. “Is there- Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Lena shakes her head. She hears footsteps and looks up to see who it is, just as she answers the woman. “I wouldn’t want to—”

“Please,” Imra insists. “I’d love to help you out.” 

Lena locks gazes with Supergirl, who is walking in with two cups of drinks in her hands. “Supergirl,” Lena says with a smile. The blonde heroine smiles back, though it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. 

“Hello,” she greets with a stiff nod. “I, uh, brought you drinks,” she says, before putting down the two cups and immediately leaving without another word. Lena blinks at the space where she had gone, glances at the two cups, one of them with a smiley and Lena’s name. 

“She’s really sweet,” Imra notes, then takes the cup to hand it to Lena. She takes the other one, too, and takes off the lid before blowing on it. Lena accepts the cup offered her and smiles as she checks what it is. Black coffee with a hint of cinnamon. The kind only two people know she likes—Jess and Kara. 

“She is,” Lena whispers, glancing back up to the doorway where Supergirl had left. 

Imra puts down her cup and looks at Lena, curiosity and that same twinkle in her eyes. “So. I can help?” 

Lena lowers her cup of coffee and looks at it longingly, before smiling at Imra. “Show me what you know, Saturn girl.” 

 


	4. psi/imra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Imra goes to Psi after her day (after fighting with Mon-El and Kara)

There’s a crash outside of her cell, by the guard doors, and Gayle lifts a bored gaze to see Imra looking rather…distraught.

“Who kicked your puppy, Matilda?” She says as a greeting, but Imra is quiet. Gayle bites her lip and stretches her legs in front of her just as the dark-haired woman sits across her, the glass between them. She hears Imra take in a shuddering breath and there’s a discomfort, somewhat, that settles on Gayle’s chest at the sound. “You know I can’t read your mind with this thing in my head,” she says instead. 

Imra just sighs. She runs the back of her hands against her cheeks, and Gayle realizes she’s been crying. The discomfort in Gayle’s chest blooms into a sort of ache, and she clenches her jaw. 

“What happened?” The blonde tries. 

“I’m fine,” Imra says, finally. Gayle frowns.

“My powers are subdued, not my eyesight,” she shoots back, and she stands so she could sit closer to the glass. She notices Imra fiddling with her hands. 

“It’s nothing. Just.” Imra bites her lip, before looking up at Gayle. “I know you didn’t look, when you- when you could have, about my greatest fear, but it’s-” She pauses and sniffles, and Gayle ignores the growing ache in her chest. “It’s about my sister. She’s- she’s dead, actually,” she says with a horrifyingly empty laugh that Gayle actually has to swallow thickly, “but I’m here now, to try to stop that, but I-” She clenches her jaw and falls quiet. Gayle wishes she could read her mind, for once, but she can do nothing. 

It takes several moments for Imra to speak again. “I’m afraid I’ll have to watch her die again.” 

Gayle sucks in a breath. For some reason, for the first time, she acknowledges the pain in her chest, but all she could do is stare at the weeping woman sitting across her, the glass between them. 

“I’m sorry,” is all Gayle can say, but she does reach out, placing her hand gingerly on the glass. Imra swallows visibly, her lips quirking up with a smile despite her sad eyes. 

“Sorry for dumping this on you,” she murmurs, and when she stands, Gayle feels foolish for offering a semblance of comfort - except, instead of leaving, Imra moves so she could sit closer and lean her head and shoulder against the glass, right where Gayle’s hand rests against the smooth surface. “But I’m glad you’re here.” 

Gayle just nods, the ache in her chest giving way to the thundering of her heartbeat.


	5. lena/imra 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on this episode of June Stop Writing These Things and Start On Your WIPs, we have Lena x Imra again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/173726011625/please-write-more-lenaimra)

“Are you okay?” 

Lena quickly turn”s away from the doorway of the comfort room, facing the wall as she wipes her cheeks with the back of her newly-issued DEO suit. “I-I’m fine,” she croaks out, her voice scratchy. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine, Ms. Luthor,” the woman, Imra, says. Lena takes a deep breath and turns to her with a smile. She hopes her eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel. “I heard about… I’m sorry. About Re- about your friend. Sam, was it?” 

Lena manages a nod. “Yes, Sam. It’s- It’s okay. Just- We’ll try again. Until we get her back.”

Imra is quiet for a moment. Lena almost jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to face the concerned woman from Saturn. “We’ll get her back, Ms. Luthor.” 

“Please,” Lena whispers, almost painfully. “Call me Lena. That name isn’t a good one to be heard echoing around here.”

Imra looks confused for a moment. “Luthor?” 

Lena nods. 

“Oh,” Imra breathes, then frowns. “That’s weird. When I’m from, Luthor is a name that inspires people.” 

“What, to kill?” Lena laughs bitterly. Realization seems to settle on Imra and she smiles, squeezing Lena’s shoulder.

“No. To be good,” she explains. “Whatever your family has done here in your time, you’ll change that. Lena Luthor and the Luthor name? All it invokes in the future is hope. Much like the Supers do.” She smiles sadly. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this now, though I can safely say you’ll get through it, Ms. Luthor.” 

Lena runs a shaky hand through her hair and turns to Imra with disbelief and gratitude in her tired green eyes. “I hope so,” she whispers. “Thank you. Not a lot of people would side with a Luthor.” 

“I would,” Imra assures.

The words remind Lena of a certain blonde, and the reminder of it aches. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Imra nods and smiles. She pulls back her hand and Lena feels lonely, all over again, until the woman gestures to the doorway. “Would you like to get something to eat? It’s been a long day and Winn says there are some…buffalo wings? Out in the pantry. I didn’t know buffaloes on Earth had wings.” 

That actually makes Lena laugh, and the smile on Imra’s lips turns satisfied. “Well. That I’d like to see,” Lena says, and Imra opens the door for her. Lena leaves her heartache for now.


	6. psi/imra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imra visits Psi. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/173727771640/imra-visiting-psi-and-getting-her-to-change-slowly)

Imra has forgotten how many days it’s been.  _A while,_ she knows for sure; the guard on duty at Psi’s -  _Gayle’s_ \- cell has changed several times now, she has been issued several new credential badges as part of security protocol, and D.E.O. agents have stopped asking why she keeps visiting the criminal telepath So yes, Imra has forgotten how long it’s been, but it’s been a while. 

She sees Gayle look up at the hissing sound of the door opening. There is the faintest smile on her face, like she is trying to hide her reaction upon seeing Imra, but the Titanian doesn’t bother hiding hers. She gives the blonde a smile, but Gayle only rolls her eyes. Imra is used to it by now, but she finds it endearing at this point.

She ignores her thought.

“You haven’t touched your food,” Imra notes, eyeing the tray at the corner of the cell as she sits cross-legged on the floor, close to the glass wall.

Gayle glances at it and shrugs. “I don’t like the food,” she counters. 

Imra chuckles. “Ah right. Don’t the leafy greens help with brain work?” 

The blonde stares. “Do you actually think my brain gets a lot of such here, Matilda?” 

“That’s why I brought this!” Imra announces. She pulls out a booklet from her back pocket and a pencil. “Crossword puzzles.” 

“How exciting,” Gayle deadpans. Imra just smiles at her. 

“It’s something,” she says, laying the booklet flat on the floor close to the glass. She purses her lips at Gayle. “Come closer so you can see it, silly.” 

The blonde sighs heavily and stares at Imra for a few more moments before moving forward. She peers through the glass and looks at the booklet. 

“Surely you know how this works?” Imra asks.

“What’s your point, little bird?” Gayle demands. Imra can’t help the small blush that settles on her cheeks at the name, and if Gayle notices it, she doesn’t say anything. She does, however, smirk. “I think I like it better when you read to me.” 

Imra sighs. “You don’t even listen to me when I do,” she points out. 

“Yes I do,” Gayle says, almost too quickly. Imra looks up at her, eyes wide and confused. “The last one you read my was  _The Little Prince,_ the one before that was  _Where The Wild Things Are,_ ” she continues, before rolling her eyes. “You should get me more exciting books. I’m not a child.” 

The dark-haired woman lets out a laugh of disbelief, and she looks at Gayle with such fondness that for a moment, there is the chink in her armor again, that look of softness that vanished as soon as Imra catches a glimpse of it. “Fine. Next time,” she promises. “For now. One down, five-letter word for...” She tilts her head to read the upside down hint. “Desirable quality.”

Gayle doesn’t miss a bit. “Asset,” she replies. 

Imra hums, impressed, then writes down the answer. “Good one. Maybe if you can finish this in record time, I can ask them for better food offerings for you.” 

Gayle just purses her lips, then one by one, dictates the answers to Imra, who laughs as she struggles to catch up with all Gayle says.

(Gayle smiles, when she isn’t looking.)


	7. superreign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kara isn’t quick enough to save Lena and it’s sad and Kara’s sad & never got to tell Lena how she feels. She finds solace in Reign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/173786696800/ok-so-kara-isnt-quick-enough-to-save-lena)
> 
> TW: Major character death, murder planning, suicidal thoughts, dark stuff

“You couldn’t save her.” 

Kara grits her teeth, clenches her fists and forces her tears back. The wind above the city is cold against her cheeks, but it carries Reign’s voice so clearly that she can’t quite miss the slightest of her breaths. She is in her Supergirl suit, fresh from a mission where they caught Edge. She had left as soon as he was in custody, because she couldn’t trust herself around him. She could easily kill him with her rage, but now, with the clouds around her and her supposed greatest nemesis, all she feels is grief. 

Like watching Krypton die but worse, because this -  _she_ \- is -  _was -_ her second home. It didn’t matter that Kara never got to tell her that.

 _“You don’t think I know that?”_ Kara whispers, in a language she hasn’t spoken in a while - not to someone who understands her. Her eyes feel hot, maybe with lasers threatening to shoot out of them, maybe with tears. She doesn’t know. “If you’re here to destroy me, please do it now,” she continues. There’s a hollow feeling in her chest and a phantom weight against her arms. Lena’s. 

Rao. Lena. She’s gone. Gone like her family, like her planet. Gone, just like that - except she  _could have_ saved Lena. She just wasn’t fast enough. 

Kara’s chest aches with emptiness yet again. She waits for Reign’s attack but there’s nothing, and Kara wonders if she is dreaming. She could however still feel Reign’s presence near her.

“The human inside me is grieving, too,” Reign says. This makes Kara finally turn to her. Reign is clad in her all-black attire, appearing darker with the dimness above the city, yet her features don’t seem as angry as Kara remembers. “The Luthor woman seems important to her.” 

A distant part of Kara wonders who Reign is, behind the mask. She clearly knows Lena Luthor enough for her to strip Reign away of her thirst to destroy the world. A bigger part of her just wants to cry some more, because  _of course_ her Lena would touch so many lives, enough to include someone behind a Worldkiller. It makes the ache worse, and Kara feels like her chest is about to cave in. 

“She is important,” Kara practically sobs. “To a lot of people.”  _To no one more than me,_ she thinks, but it’s too late for that sentiment now, now that it doesn’t matter anymore, because Lena is gone. The only person she could be Kara Danvers with is gone. Kara doesn’t know if she is relieved that Lena never got to know her best friend had been lying to her all this time, or if the knowledge of never getting to tell her that - among other things - would wear her down for all of her life. 

A plane flies overhead. There is only the sound of the wind and swooshing capes around the two, along with the distant bustle of the city, who will probably celebrate the death of the last Luthor. Anger sparks distantly in Kara once more. 

“Why aren’t you attacking me?” Kara asks Reign, in the stretch of silence. The Worldkiller only looks at her. 

“I am justice,” she says. “And it is not just for me to take your life while you are grieving for another.” 

 _“It’s mercy,”_ Kara says in Kryptonese, her tongue heavy with desperation. 

Reign smiles, almost sadly that Kara breaks. “Justice will come to the man who did this to her. And for the ease of your conscience, his blood will be on my hands.”

Kara’s shoulders shake with a sob and she looks back to the city below her. The city she had sworn to protect, oblivious to their heroine’s heartache. “Hers is on mine.”

Reign is quiet for a while. When she speaks again, is voice is soft, familiar. Like Kara knows her. “Lena was a good person,” she says. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

The blonde doesn’t speak. She feels the wind in her hair, listens to all the heartbeats that excluded the one she cared most about. 

“If it’s any consolation,” Reign speaks again, this time her voice back to it’s echoing cruelty. “You will join your beloved soon enough.” 

Kara closes her eyes at the promise in Reign’s words. The Worldkiller leaves Supergirl, suspended in the sky and drowning in her grief, but for the first time since Lena is gone, Kara feels comfort.


	8. superreign - sparring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://potstickermaster.tumblr.com/post/174165163435/prompt-kara-and-sam-sparring-in-the-deo-but-its)

The training room bleeds red with the light from the sun emitters. Kara’s skin is damp with sweat; her fists are up and her body is on guard as she waits for Sam’s next move. The brunette seems to be waiting for her, too, and when she smirks, Kara’s own lips twitch with a hint of a smile.

“If you were this patient in bed, we’d have less issues with punishments,” Sam muses. 

Kara scrunches her nose at that. The red light in the room makes her hope her blush isn’t too obvious. “Is that a complaint?” She asks, bobbing her head to keep hair away from her eyes. Maybe she should have let Lena braid her hair. “We both know you  _love_ to hear me beg.” 

Sam hums. “Fair point,” she answers softly, and then she’s onto Kara again: She lunges forward and delivers a kick to the direction of the blonde’s head, but Kara is quick. She drops to her knees and slides her leg in an attempt to sweep Sam off her footing. Sam does, falling to the floor with a small grunt, and Kara takes the opportunity to straddle her lap, hands grabbing Sam’s wrist to render her immobile.

“What’s that you said?” Kara says smugly. “There’s bliss in surrender?” 

The brunette struggles a bit against Kara’s hold, but with the red lights subduing her strength, she stays down. “Maybe I’d let you win this time just so you can top for once,” Sam smirks with a lick of her lips. 

Kara laughs and rolls her eyes. “You’re so annoying.” She pulls away, and Sam takes that exact moment to push Kara off, flipping their positions so the blonde is pinned on the ground. Sam smirks down at her. 

“But you love it.” 

Kara takes a shuddering breath, indulges herself in the smoldering look Sam gives her. 

The feedback from the intercom is deafening even without her superhearing.  _Please don’t fuck in the training room,_ Alex’s tired voice filters in. Sam laughs and gets up, offers Kara a hand. 

“You’re mine tonight, Danvers,” Sam reminds. 

Kara grins goofily. “Always yours.”


End file.
